


Convalescence

by haylches



Series: Connections Series [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Keith just wants to help, Langst, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, klangst, poor lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15583920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylches/pseuds/haylches
Summary: (Sequel to Connections)After Lance is rescued from a Galra prison, the team tries to figure out the best ways to help him heal. Keith is suddenly forced to come to terms with his feelings, and Lance can only try desperately to be normal again.





	1. 1

 Lance blinked hazily. Keith was huddled over him, looking… concerned? Helpless? Lance wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t like it. It didn’t bode well if his illusions were this… real feeling. He could feel Keith’s hands on his face, feel the humming of the red lion beneath him. A stinky, sweaty smell mixed with iron, making his nose tingle. It should have disgusted him, but instead it made him almost want to relax into this dream. Soon he’d be awake and Lotor would return, but it couldn’t hurt to indulge himself for once.

Blinking again, trying to clear his foggy vision, he met Keith’s stare.

“Lance? How do you feel?” Keith’s voice sounded very, very far away. Lance furrowed his brow, trying to focus. He was supposed to reply, right? It’d been a long time since he’d been expected to say anything.

“This is really n-nice,” he finally said, his tongue tripping over itself. He’d forgotten about that acquired trait. Hopefully this Dream-Keith wouldn’t be angry about it. Or maybe, if he concentrated, he could force his dream-self to talk like a normal person.

“We’re going to be at the castle soon,” Dream-Keith said, his eyes flashing with relief. Lance hummed contentedly. He’d always liked Keith. Not that he ever would have admitted it before; he’d been too focused on their rivalry. Maybe there wasn’t a rivalry in this dream? He could control the things that happened, right? Just like any other dream. He could make it so that Keith liked him back. Just will it to be so and watch it happen.

“You’re p-pretty,” he said, testing the waters. To his delight, Dream-Keith flushed a brilliant shade of red.

“Lance, I… delirious. We need… --ealing pod.”

Lance frowned, trying to make sense of what he had said. It was tricky to focus on long sentences.

“I can’t… c-can’t listen,” he finally said, hoping Dream-Keith would understand. The red paladin was frowning somewhere far away, biting his lip. It would be nice to kiss his lips. Maybe he could; this was a really nice dream so far.

“Can you hear me?” Dream-Keith was raising his voice, studying Lance’s ears with concern.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. Dream-Keith was so funny. “Your voice is g-good.”

Dream-Keith frowned again, leaning his face close. Lance giggled, reaching up to touch his cheeks.

“I really like this d-dream,” he murmured. Dream-Keith’s eyes widened, looking surprised. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Did Dream-Keith not realize he was in a dream? Wait, that didn’t make sense.

“Lance, this is real,” Dream-Keith said. He sounded so worried.

“Mhm,” Lance sighed, gazing at the red paladin fondly. Real-Keith probably would have said the same thing. He was stubborn like that. Dream-Keith just frowned again. He was doing that a lot.

A beeping sound filled the cockpit, piercing through his foggy head painfully. He reached up to cover his ears, trying to muffle the sound. Suddenly Dream-Keith wasn’t there, and he vaguely wondered where he’d gone. The floor lurched, and he braced himself against the wall behind him.

The cockpit filled with a white light, and he felt arms scoop him up. He considered fighting them but decided against it. This was a dream, so there wasn’t much need to worry for his safety.

Voices were surrounding him, and he realized that he should probably be paying attention. Furrowing his brow, he forced himself to focus.

“What happened?”

“Lotor had him…blood everywhere.”

“…kill him?”

“Didn’t… out.”

“…hurt?”

“I don’t think…”

Lance groaned. There were too many voices; too much to think about. And where had those arms gone? Was he on a table?

Suddenly there was a face hovering over him.

“Hunk?” he questioned, squinting. The yellow paladin grinned, and Lance was surprised to see tears dripping down his face. Hunk was in his dream, too! That was good, he liked Hunk.

“Hey, buddy. How do you feel?”

Lance smiled. “G-Great. This is b-better than usual.” Hunk frowned, blinking in confusion.

“Better than what?”

“B-Better than my other d-dreams. Nobody’s k-killed me yet.”

Dream-Hunk’s eyes widened, and he turned to look at something behind him. It was silent. What had happened to the other voices?

“Lance… this isn’t a dream,” Dream-Hunk finally said. Lance only smiled, nodding a little.

“That’s what D-Dream-Keith said,” he giggled. Someone made a weird sound off to the side, and he tilted his head to try to find it. “Who else is here?”

“Everybody’s… Lance… worried about… Not dreaming…” Dream-Hunk’s voice wavered in and out, and Lance frowned to himself. This was getting frustrating.

“Stop! …scaring him!”

Another face joined Dream-Hunk’s above him, and he blinked hard to focus on it.

“Lance… --eed to rest,” Dream-Keith said.

“I can’t… can’t understand,” he replied. Dream-Keith was frowning again, and he had the urge to kiss his frown away. That would be ok in a dream, right?

Suddenly he was in someone’s arms. Blinking, he tried to pay attention to what was happening. Were they going somewhere?

He felt himself being lowered, and was suddenly surrounded in fluffy fabrics. He choked, fighting the bile that rose in his throat. He wasn’t ready to wake up. He could feel the bed under him, feel the pillows and the blanket. He cried out, curling himself into a tight ball. Hands grasped his shoulder, and he jerked away. Lotor would punish him later, but he just wasn’t ready. The dream had been too good, he couldn’t wake up yet.

A sharp pinch in his arm jolted him, and he let out another sob. Lotor was punishing him. He should have been more obedient.

His limbs suddenly felt heavy, and his eyelids drooped. He knew what was coming, and he welcomed the familiar darkness with open arms.


	2. 2

Keith paced in the dark room, pausing for a moment to study Lance’s prone figure before resuming his anxious march. Lance was back. He was safe. But even this far from Lotor’s grasp, Lance was hurting.

Keith had been prepared for all of the physical healing they’d need to do. He’d prepared himself for blood, starvation; any and all kinds of physical ailments. What he _hadn’t_ prepared for was how mentally hurt Lance had been. Somehow, the possibility of Lance being psychologically damaged hadn’t even bleeped his radar. And now it was tearing him apart.

He couldn’t help but selfishly wish that Lance wasn’t so _broken_. They’d been forced to keep him sedated for 4 quintents now, and Lance showed no sign of returning to any kind of mental stability. Coran had suggested letting the sedatives wear off a couple times every day, just to check and make sure Lance wasn’t coming back to himself. So far they’d only been met with screaming and clawing, the blue paladin doing as much damage to them as he did to himself.

Keith frowned at that. It was painful to watch Lance hurting. When he’d rescued him from the prison, his heart had felt like it was breaking. That feeling was only made worse when Lance had insisted that Keith was nothing more than a dream. Nothing he did seemed to convince the paladin otherwise, no matter how much he assured him that he was very real.

Pidge was suspicious of Lance’s mental state, obviously. She suspected something more than psychological damage was at play, and Keith desperately wanted to believe her. There had to be a better reason for Lance to not recognize him. She’d been studying various samples and equations for Vargas on end, determinedly searching for some kind of answer. So far she’d come up with nothing, but no one had ever accused Pidge of being dumb. Keith had complete faith that she’d figure out what was wrong.

A light whimper broke into Keith’s thoughts, and he turned to face the bed on full alert. It was probably about time for Lance to wake up. With a glance towards the door, he quickly started to gather the materials he’d need. He’d watched Coran perform the procedure often enough; he would be fine doing it on his own. He filled a needle with the Altean sedative and glanced back at the bed. Lance whimpered again, lines of worry and pain carved into his pale face.

Setting the full injection down on the small nightstand, he perched on the edge of the bed nervously. Maybe Lance would actually be aware of his surroundings this time.

Lance let out a sharp cry, and Keith found himself lifting the frail figure into his arms, cradling him against his chest. Lance was shaking, tears leaving sparkling trails on his mocha skin. Keith brushed chocolate bangs away from clammy skin, murmuring comforting words under his breath.

Slowly, blue eyes fluttered open, darting around nervously as Lance seemed to take stock of his surroundings. Keith’s breath caught around the lump in his throat, his very sanity hanging on whatever words would next escape Lance’s chapped lips.

“Keith?”

Keith’s breath came out in a whoosh, and he forced out a tight laugh.

“Hey sharpshooter, how do you feel?” Lance blinked, pushing himself away from Keith’s arms weakly.

“W-What are you doing here?” Lance stuttered, his lips pulling into a worried frown.

“We’re at the castle, Lance. You’re safe. It’s ok.” His words fell on deaf ears, however, as Lance started desperately shoving him away.

“K-Keith... you need to g-go. Lotor will be b-back any s-s-second.” His pupils were blown wide, tears overflowing his amethyst orbs. Keith desperately tried to reign in the situation.

“Lance, listen to me. It’s ok, you’re ok.” He pulled the quivering body close, running his fingers through Lance’s hair in what he hoped was a calming gesture. He continued his murmured reassurances, idly noticing how surprisingly soft his hair was. Lance was no longer crying or arguing, which was hopefully a good sign. Risking a look at the face tucked under his chin, he was alarmed to see Lance’s glassy expression. His mouth moved silently, forming words that were immediately lost to the sterile room.

“Lance, hey. Listen to me. I’m here, ok? I’m here, and you’re right here in my arms.” Lance’s eyes flickered at that, and he pushed onward with fresh determination. “Everyone at the castle is so excited to see you. We missed you so much. And you know what?I think I’m going to get Allura to fly us back to Earth. I’ve wanted to meet your family for a while.”

The words were meant to be comforting.

Apparently they were not.

A shrill scream ripped out of Lance’s throat, and he lunged away from Keith’s grasp. Before he had time to react, Lance was suddenly there again, ripping into his arms and face with blunt nails (thank you Coran, the foresightful genius). Keith let out a light hiss of pain, reaching to grab at Lance’s wrists, but the paladin was suddenly reeling back. Another guttural sob shot through Keith’s heart, and Lance was suddenly clawing at his own face, his own skin.

Keith dove for the needle waiting patiently for him, whirling to face Lance’s spasming form. With a grunt, he managed to plunge the needle into his neck. It wasn’t ideal, but soon the medication was taking its toll. Lance’s movements became sluggish and slow, his limbs weakly flinching and jerking in pain and fear. Blue eyes drifted closed, and Keith released a shuddering breath. That had been more emotionally taxing then he’d like to admit.

He heard a light whooshing sound behind him, and he whirled around guiltily. Coran stood in the doorway, studying the scene with an arched brow.

“Hello, Number Four,” he started hesitantly. “What... What seems to have happened here?” Keith let out a shaky laugh, cursing the tears that were threatening to spill down his face.

“I thought I could handle it myself,” he said, shooting a tense smile towards Coran. “He actually recognized me, Coran.” The Altean’s brows shot up so fast that Keith would have found it funny in any other situation.

“What do you mean he recognized you?” Coran asked eagerly. “Did he actually talk to you?” Keith nodded, ignoring the older man’s sharp intake of breath.

“He knew it was me. He said my name. He was still freaking out a little, and I was calming him down, I think. At least at first. I guess I must have said something wrong, though, because the next thing I knew he was...” _Flipping out. Going crazy._ “Panicking,” he finally said with a sigh. Coran seemed to understand, the excited glimmer in his eyes dimming considerably.

“I’m glad you were here to help him,” Coran said, his voice surprisingly soothing. Keith was surprised by the sudden change in the man.

“It was nothing,” he replied tightly, his mouth a thin line. He really had done nothing. Or, if not, he’d only made things worse.

Coran’s hand clapped on his shoulder, and he frowned a little. Physical contact wasn’t really his thing. Although he hadn’t minded holding Lance and touching Lance’s hair and hugging him close and—

He jerked himself out of Coran’s grip, feeling a wave of guilt at Coran’s surprised expression.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sure if the Altean knew what he was trying to say. To his relief, Coran’s face only softened.

“No worries, Number Four,” he replied easily. “Why don’t you hop along to your chambers and get some sleep? You look like a dead juddlebird!” Keith smiled tiredly, rolling his eyes a little at Coran’s exuberant nature.

Despite how happy he was to have Lance back, he couldn’t quell the relief that filled his chest when he stepped out of the room and down the hall. He didn’t want to be in that room anymore. Out of all the paladins, he’d definitely spent the most time there, and it was weighing on him. Lance was so far from ok, and he had no idea what to do.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Lance (if he could even call it that). What had been different? Why hadn’t he woken up screaming like before? Of course he wasn’t complaining, but there surely had to be some kind of trigger—

He stopped suddenly. Trigger. That was it.

Whirling around, he sprinted in the opposite direction. There was only one person he knew that would be able to help, and he could only hope that they could figure this out. Lance’s sanity depended on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Thanks so much for reading! I’m sorry for the slight delay; I probably would have had this chapter out sooner, but my laptop broke. I ended up losing the 2 pages or so of progress that I’d made, but luckily 7 hour drives means lots of time to make it up. Because of my broken laptop, I kind had to bust this out through my phone. Be grateful, my thumbs hurt. :)  
> Anyways, thanks for all your support! I really liked this chapter, and I hope you did too. Feel free to leave comments (they make me so happy, you have no idea). See you next chapter!


	3. 3

Lance was floating. His whole body felt numb, and it was as foreign as it was comforting. Dreams came and went, blurring with memories to weave some kind of unrecognizable tale. Had he and Hunk really graduated top of their class? Or was his Mamá rocking him gently after the rejection letter was opened? Was Allura really smiling sweetly as she reminded him how unwanted he was? Or was Keith holding him, rocking him, running fingers through his hair...

His eyes opened slowly. Or were they still closed? Was he dreaming again?

Strong arms were wrapped around him, and his brow furrowed. This... he knew these arms.

“Keith?” he whispered.

Please let it be Keith. Please, please, anyone but Lotor, let it be Keith—

“Hey, sharpshooter, how do you feel?” The voice sounded hoarse. It... It was Keith’s voice. Keith was with him. Keith was here.

Wait.

Keith was here.

“W-What are you doing here?” he asked. Panic coursed through him, and his head spun at the sudden fear that clenched deep in his gut. Keith couldn’t be here. Lotor would find him, Lotor would kill him. Lotor would kill Keith and punish Lance, and he couldn’t take any more, he couldn’t take it—

He pushed Keith away from him, scrambling further onto the bed.

Oh god, the bed.

“K-Keith... you need to g-go. Lotor will be b-back any s-s-second,” he managed to spit out, tears stinging his eyes.

Emotions were flowing freely now, punching through his makeshift border as if it were nothing more than paper. He’d kept it away, he’d kept it far away from him. It didn’t work, the emotions were everywhere, he didn’t know what to feel, how to feel, why he was feeling so much so helpless oh god—

There was a voice. Someone was speaking to him. What... he recognized it.

“—here, ok? I’m here, and you’re right here in my arms.”

There were arms around him. That was nice.

He focused on the feeling of arms all around him, warmth spreading into his skin. The voice was still talking, and he latched onto it desperately.

“—missed you so much. And you know what?I think I’m going to get Allura to fly us back to Earth. I’ve wanted to meet your family for a while.”

Lance’s blood froze.

No.

His Mamá.

His Mamá was gone.

She was gone and it was his fault.

He threw himself out of the arms, the comfort suddenly turning suffocating. This was not a friend. This... This was a demon come to torture him; force him to relive his deepest pains.

Unearthly screams pierced his ears, and he hurled himself blindly at the demon, clawing and scratching and—

There was a hand grabbing his wrist and he pulled away.

The screams were everywhere, they were deafening him, they were so loud, why didn’t they stop, stop please stop stopstoppleasestopstop—

Pain again.

His neck throbbed.

He sobbed, knowing how pitiful he must sound.

This was no dream, this was a nightmare.

Darkness was coming again.

Darkness always came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah um... early update? Hope you guys like it, sorry it’s short. :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Shiro, I need your he—“ 

Keith cut off suddenly as Shiro jerked back, tripping over himself and landing flat on his rear. Allura was standing still as stone, a deep red crawling up her face and tinting her ears.

“I think Coran is calling for me,” she squeaked, running out of the room. Keith stared at her in confusion. Why was she blushing so—

Wait.

Wait, had they been...Were they... In the control room?!

What the quiznak??

“Shiro!” Keith started, his face flaring.

“Don’t.” Shiro kept his head ducked, his face a brilliant shade of scarlet. “Just don’t, Keith.”

Keith could only stare, his jaw hanging.

“I think... I think I’m gonna go.” He turned to make his escape.

“Wait, Keith. Um, is there something you needed?” Shiro lurched to his feet, smoothing his vest anxiously.

“Um...” Keith searched his frazzled mind desperately. He’d come here for a reason. He pushed the awful picture of Shiro and Allura making out far, far out of his mind.

Quiznak, he’d walked in on his space parents.

“Lance!” he blurted. “Um, Lance. I need to talk to you about Lance.” Shiro’s embarrassment was quickly replaced by concern.

“Is he alright? What happened?”

“No, he’s fine. Well... as fine as he has been.” Keith bit his lip nervously. “I kind of got him to talk? And he recognized me,” he added. Shiro’s eyes widened.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah, but it was kind of weird? I was hoping you could help me figure it out. I think that there must be something we’re doing that’s triggering him. You know more about this kind of thing than I do, Shiro.”

Something dark flashed in the black paladin’s eyes, and Keith felt a tight pang of guilt.

“Sorry, if this is too much then I understand. I can probably figure it out on my own, and—“

“No,” Shiro cut him off. “I want to help. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened, and we’ll compare it to all the other times he’s woken up. You’re probably right about the triggers; I know that I was thrown into intense flashbacks whenever something rubbed me the wrong way. Lance could be experiencing something similar.” Keith nodded, biting his lip nervously.

“Ok, um, here’s what happened. Lance was starting to wake up and Coran wasn’t there, so I decided to just do it myself—“

“Keith—“

“Yes, Shiro, I know it was dumb. So I got the sedatives ready and set them on the table, and Lance just looked really... really sad. And hurt.” Keith took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“I couldn’t... I couldn’t just watch, Shiro. I just couldn’t.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he forced the rising tears away. “I don’t really know what got into me, but...” He blushed, deliberately avoiding Shiro’s questioning gaze. “I kind of picked him up? Like he was on my lap and stuff and I was pretty much just hugging him.” His face felt like it was on fire. Quiznak, this sounded so much worse out loud.

“What happened after that? Was he calmer?” Shiro prompted.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded. “That’s when he said my name. He knew it was me. After that... I think he still thought he was in the prison, because he was telling me to leave and escape and stuff.”

Shiro nodded, deep in thought.

“This is a lot harder to nail down when we don’t know exactly what he’s been through. It sounds like he feels better when there’s someone with him, though. We’ll have to keep that in mind. What happened after that?”

Keith swallowed a lump in his throat. “I, uh, hugged him some more, and I think I actually calmed him down. He stopped crying and freaking out, at least. I think I might have said something wrong, though, because he freaked out again and I had to put him under.”

Shiro frowned at that. “Do you remember what you said?”

“Um...” Keith thought for a moment. He’d said that everyone missed him, and that they could go back to earth, and—

He drew a sharp breath, and Shiro raised a brow curiously.

“I think... I think it had something to do with his family? I said that I’d always wanted to meet them.”

Shiro considered this for a moment before replying hesitantly.

“I don’t know why that would make him upset. Lance has always felt a strong connection to his family, and it wouldn’t make sense for that to hurt him.” Shiro paused, thinking. “I guess that there’s no way to get answers for this kind of thing, at least not yet. For now, let’s hold off any mention of his family. We should also make sure someone’s always there when he wakes up. If hugging him really helped that much, then we ought to do it every time.”

Keith suppressed the bristle he felt at the idea of other people hugging Lance.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, good idea. Let’s do that.”

Shiro’s stare bore into him, and he shuffled nervously.

“Keith, is there anything else you want to talk about?”

A drop of sweat fell into his eye, and he brushed it away.

“No, uh, not that I know of,” he replied, praying Shiro would just let it go. Now was not the time to be crushing on Lance, especially considering how much healing he still needed. Lance was in no position to have a relationship of any kind, even if he called him pretty and cradled his face and smiled at him stupidly—

Keith batted _those_ thoughts away, willing his face to cool the quiznak down.

Shiro opened his mouth (probably to say something that would guilt him into spilling), but Keith was saved by an interruption taking the shape of a small gremlin.

“Guys, I think I figured it out!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Lots of panic attacks to be had, so read with caution. Thanks :)

Lance woke up to blaring lights and muffled voices. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the white glare, and quickly took physical inventory. He felt... good. Really good, actually. He could think straight, which was more than he could’ve said for the last... who knows how long.

Which brings him to a pressing concern. What the quiznak happened? His memories were crazy weird, and really not doing it for him. The last thing he was clearly sure about was that transmission with his—

His breath hitched.

Right.

His papá hated him and his mamá was dead.

A tight weight settled in his chest, and he struggled to keep his breathing as steady as possible. There was no time for this. He needed to pretend to be asleep for just a little longer. If the Galra knew he was awake, who knows what they’d do.

Keeping as still as possible, he tuned in to the murmured voices that were just loud enough for him to hear.

“—like his vitals are good. He should be waking up any second.”

Lance frowned. That voice sounded almost like...

Like Pidge.

That couldn’t be right. He knew his team had abandoned him. They’d replaced him. He was useless and gullible and expendable.

Quiznak, what he wouldn’t give for some nunville right now.

“Lance? Buddy?”

He stiffened at the voice. It really sounded like Hunk. Why was his mind playing these dirty tricks on him? Was it the Galra? Did they find some way to replicate voices? Because this was a lot more painful than he’d ever like to admit.

“I think he’s waking up, guys! His face keeps twitching!”

Dammit. Well, if his ruse was already over, he could at least try to figure out who was talking to him.

Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking past the blinding light.

He was laying on a metal table of sorts, one that reminded him of the med-bay in the castle. An IV was plugged into his arm, and he vaguely wondered why he needed it.

Turning his head a little, he made out a blurry yet achingly familiar figure.

“Lance!”

Before he could react, he was scooped up into a hug. Arms were everywhere, faces and bodies all squished up and crowded, tears and sweat and hot breath and crushing pressure, his chest was tight and it was so hard to breath, oh god the cell walls were closing in on him, he had to get out, he needed to escape, he couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe? He could hear someone sobbing, oh god they were coming for him next, he couldn’t take any more, he couldn’t—

“—ance. Lance!”

Huh.

His name.

“Lance, it’s ok. Breathe with me.”

Breathing. Yeah, that’s probably important.

“Breathe in... and out. In... out.”

Quiznak, why was that so hard? He could not hold his breath as long as they wanted him to, he couldn’t do it, it was too much, he couldn’t breathe—

“No, stay with me, Lance. In...”

Man, they were pushy. He took a shaky breath.

“Out.”

He breathed out.

The cycle continued, and the sound of blood roaring in his ears turned to a dull rush.

He forced his eyes open. Someone was holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. That heart-wrenching sob had turned into quiet whimpers, and he belatedly realized that the sound was escaping his own lips.

“Hey, there we go. You ok?”

He turned, coming face to face with brilliant violet eyes. Black hair framed a sharp face, brushing against dark brows and pale skin.

Keith.

What the fuck?

Keith’s worried gaze quickly turned to one of hurt confusion, and Lance realized he must have spoken out loud.

“Lance, what’s wrong? How do you feel?” Keith’s brows were pinched together in confusion, and he bit his lip worriedly.

Lance could only stare in shock. How did he feel? His team had _abandoned_ him. Keith, the only boy Lance had ever considered dating for real, had screamed at him. Cut him down and gutted him in front of everyone. They’d replaced him, and then Keith had the gall to- to date his replacement! He’d _seen_ it, the way they held each other and looked in each other’s eyes. And now Keith is here. _Here_ , staring at him with quiznaking concern. Keith had no right to look at him like that.

He wanted to tell Keith to get out. He wanted to scream and cry and punch him in the jaw.

“Why are y-you here?” he croaked out instead. Keith’s face flickered with too many emotions for Lance to make out.

“Lance, we’re at the castle. You’re safe.”

Lance blinked.

“We’re at the c-castle?”

Keith’s eyes widened a fraction, and his face morphed into a mixture of concern and hope. It was a strange combination.

“Yeah, we are. How do you feel?” he repeated. Lance chuckled darkly, turning away to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

“I feel g-great, Keith,” he muttered darkly. “Just dandy.”

“Uh... are you sure?”

Lance forced himself to look straight back at the red paladin, meeting his confused gaze with his own intense glare.

“Keith, I d-don’t know what you’re playing at here. I c-can’t remember much, but I remember enough. I don’t know w-what I’m doing here or w-why you came, and frankly I c-can’t find any logic behind it. If you b-brought me here to hurt me, then ju-just get it over with already.” His voice broke on the last word, and he desperately tried to force the tears back. Keith’s face swam in front of him, a mixture of pain and confusion.

It just didn’t make any sense. Did they rescue him from the Galra? Why would they do that? They had a new paladin, one who was much better than Lance could ever be. Why would they want him at all?

Unless...

Unless Kord or whatever is name is was gone. If Kord died, they’d need a quick substitute until they could find someone better.

Lucky they had one of those.

Lance found himself laughing out loud, but the sound was severely lacking in actual humor.

“Oh, w-wait, I get it now,” he chuckled. “I get it. Don’t worry, K-Keith, you don’t need to explain. I’ll p-pilot the b-blue lion. I’ll help you g-guys out. Let me know when y-you’ve found someone.” He stood up shakily, the world tilting just a bit on its axis. Keith was staring at him with wide eyes, his brows furrowed and his lips parted slightly.

Nope, don’t think about his lips.

Taking a deep breath, he took a shaky step towards the exit.

“Lance,” Shiro started.

“Nope,” Lance interrupted, raising a hand. “I’m good. Just g-gonna go to my— er, to the b-blue paladin’s room.”

Eventually he got his feet moving again. Jeez, it was hard to walk. The room was absolutely silent behind him, his old teammates watching him go. Their eyes bore into his back, and he desperately tried to pick up the pace.

When he finally got to his old room, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. The doors slid open in front of him, and he entered hesitantly.

Someone had obviously been living in here. The bedsheets were crumpled, and the pillow had a huge dent in the middle. He never would have let that happen. His headphones were on his bed, laying next to his old jacket. He felt a sharp wave of anger. Kord was a grade-A asshole if he’d worn Lance’s clothes. What a jerkwad.

Sighing, he slumped onto the bed.

Immediately he shot off, scrambling across the room and up against the wall, breathing heavily. It took him a moment to process what had just happened. His blood was still pounding, and his breath came out in jerky gasps.

What the heck? Why did the bed feel so _wrong_? Even the thought of going back over there made his skin crawl, and he shuddered. Faint images blurred his vision.

Purple pillows. Rough hands. Wet pants against his ear.

He shivered. Something must have happened with the Galra. He couldn’t have been too aware during it, but there was no other explanation. Even thinking about the possibilities made him sick.

Actually he really did feel sick.

Before he could stumble to the bathroom, he was throwing up, all over his hands and his legs, ruining the stupid suit the castle had for the med-bay and making a huge mess on the floor and filling the room with the smell of bile and his heart was beating so fast and his throat stung and his mouth burned and the air was suffocating him, swirling around his throat and tightening around it, the walls were too close and the floor was swaying, oh god he couldn’t escape, he was stuck, couldn’t move, useless body, useless Lance, useless useless useless useless...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I’ve actually had a severe hyperventilation episode before, so Lance’s experience is based off of my own.  
> Another fun fact: hospitals actually use paper bags for you to breathe into when you’re hyperventilating. Also, they work super well and are really comforting, go figure.


	6. Chapter 6

Keith could only stare in shock at Lance’s retreating form, blinking in surprise and disbelief. 

That...

He did not see that coming.

“What the quiznak?” Pidge mumbled behind him, and he couldn’t help but agree.

“Do we... Why’d he... What did he mean when he said ‘let me know when you find someone?’” Hunk’s voice was unsure and quivering, and Keith could only shake his head slowly.

“I have no idea,” he replied, trying to piece it together. Lance had seemed confused, but not the same kind of confusion they’d experienced the last few days. No, he was confused about _why_ he was there, not where he was. He’d said... He’d said that they should hurt him. Like he expected it. Like he was just waiting for them to explode. What exactly happened in that prison?

“Well at least my hypothesis seemed to be correct,” Pidge said wryly, interrupting his thoughts. “Once I got the drug out of his system, he seemed much more lucid.”

“You did great, Pidge,” Shiro said, smiling tiredly.

“I still can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t follow any of the earth rules. I mean, it wasn’t in his blood or urine samples or anything. It’s a miracle I found it at all.”

“You’re truly brilliant, Pidge. I had no doubt that you’d find a solution,” Allura said, smiling gently.

“Thanks, princess,” Pidge replied.

Shiro sighed, running his human hand through his hair tiredly.

“We need to think about how to proceed from here. I don’t know why Lance reacted the way he did, but I’m sure he had a good reason. I think that we should leave him alone for now. He might need time to adjust to things.”

Keith scowled. He didn’t like the idea of Lance alone and hurting in his room, just out of reach. What if he needed something and no one was there? What if there were still residual drugs in his system, and they suddenly flared up? What if he was lonely or scared, and too nervous to find anyone?

“I agree with Shiro,” Allura cut in, interrupting his anxious thoughts. “Lance obviously wanted space, so it’s only fair we give it to him.”

“Um, I totally agree with you guys, but I think I’m still going to go make some food for him. Ya know, a ‘welcome home’ surprise.” Hunk shifted on his feet nervously, and Keith couldn’t suppress the grin that wormed its way onto his face. Hunk hadn’t cooked since Lance had been kidnapped, and it rung of familiarity and nostalgia.

“That would be good, Hunk,” Shiro said with a smile. “Just be careful. We need to be aware of his boundaries. If he refuses to open his door, we ought to respect what he wants.” Shiro’s gaze fell on Keith, and he squirmed a little under the black paladin’s pointed glare.

“I’m not stupid, Shiro,” he muttered, glaring at his shoes.

“I didn’t say that,” Shiro replied with a wry grin.

“Yeah, you didn’t need to,” Pidge butted in, grinning.

“Shut up, Pidge,” Keith growled, but there wasn’t any venom in his words.

Suddenly, it hit him.

They were acting _normal_ again.

Before he knew it, tears were welling up and stinging the corners of his eyes, and he sniffled pathetically.

“Keith, are you alright?” Allura asked, concern lacing her voice.

He didn’t reply; just walked out.

He didn’t like it when people saw him cry. He’d been beat up too many times to let other people see that side of him, and while he knew that his team wouldn’t hurt him, old instincts took over. Besides, nobody liked to be around a pathetic, dripping mess; least of all him. It made it that much worse when he was the one stuck with himself.

Still rubbing at his eyes angrily, he passed Lance’s door.

And froze.

Lance was crying. Sobbing, really. It was broken and choppy and his breath was coming out painfully ragged. Keith felt a flash of alarm, and he reached out to the finger pad (Pidge had rewired it to accept his signature after the whole ‘I can’t sleep unless I’m in Lance’s room because I’m a pathetic mess’ fiasco).

Before he could fling the door open, he hesitated. Shiro’s words rang in his ears. He had very clearly told Keith not to bug Lance. To let him be alone.

In a surge of self-control that he felt disproportionately proud of, he wrenched his hand away from the pad and instead curled it into a fist, hovering above the door. Steeling himself, he gave three sharp taps.

“Lance?”

Nothing except the increasingly worsening sobs and hitching breath.

“Hey, are you ok man?”

No answer. Panic curled in his gut.

“Lance, if you don’t want me to come in, say something.”

Ok, that might have been a little under-handed, but the desperate sounds were really starting to worry him. Could Lance even breathe? He would have passed out in the med-bay earlier if Keith hadn’t pulled him out of it. Did he know how to manage panic attacks on his own?

After waiting a split-second and hearing no reply, he jammed his hand onto the pad and the door flew open.

Lance was curled against the wall, facing away from his cot. The acrid smell of vomit filled the air, and Keith could see it pooling at the foot of Lance’s crouched form.

Keith suddenly realized that the room was deafeningly silent.

Shit, he’d been too late.

Crouching over Lance’s prone figure, he brushed his finger along the paladin’s sweaty brow. Lance was still breathing shallowly, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating. His face was screwed up in pain, even in his unconscious state, and Keith found himself smoothing the hard lines with his thumb.

His lips pressed into a thin line. He hated seeing Lance like this. He hated not knowing how to help or what to do.

Shooting to his feet, he stormed into the bathroom. He might be pretty powerless to save Lance from his demons, but he could at least make it easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, sorry this chapter took longer than usual. I got distracted by prematurely writing out Keith’s gay crisis, so at least you have that to look forward to!  
> Please leave all the comments, they make me so happy. Thanks for all the support!


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Lance felt when he woke up was warmth. He wasn’t used to that. Lotor’s room was always so cold, and heat usually only came with pain. 

This was different. It was nice; comfortable.

Slowly he blinked his eyes open, the white ceiling above him blurring before him. He reached to touch his aching head, only to startle at the sound of sloshing water. He blinked and looked down, surprised to find himself in a bathtub. _His_ bathtub, he belatedly realized. Or, well, what used to be his.

He turned to look around the bathroom, finding himself alone. A light frown pulled at his lips, and he tried to piece things together. He’d left the team. Gone to his old room. Had... a weird moment where the bed freaked him out enough to pass out. And that was it. Had he slept-walked into the bath?

A light curse coming from the other room snapped his attention to the bathroom door. He startled as it opened with a whoosh, and his eyes widened when none other than Keith Kogane stumbled in. His arms were overflowing with clothes, soaps, lotions, towels, and more that he didn’t even recognize.

Suddenly he was very aware of how naked he was.

“Quiznaking headphones, how’d they even get there, I swear—“ Keith cut off suddenly as his gaze met Lance’s startled blue eyes.

“Oh shit,” he breathed, frozen in place. 

There was a moment of awkward silence where Lance could do nothing but gape at him.

Suddenly he let out a loud screech, flinging water in the red paladin’s direction. He flinched violently, dropping the pile of stuff as he slapped his hands over his eyes. 

“Get out!” Lance squealed, face burning.

“I didn’t look! I swear, I kept my eyes closed the whole time!”

“Get out!!” he repeated. “Out, out, out!” Keith was bright red under his hands, and he stumbled towards the door blindly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! I was trying to help!”

“What the quiznak!”

“Sorry!”

He finally found the door, almost toppling over as it opened in front of him. His apologies didn’t let up as the door closed behind him, and Lance just stared at the door in complete shock. Keith had put him in the bath. _Keith had taken his clothes off._ Had he seen his dick?? No, he said he hadn’t looked. Did he lie?? What even possessed him to come here? Shouldn’t he be grieving or something? Why wasn’t he yelling at him? Why was Keith being so quiznaking nice??

He took a moment to compose himself. He was missing something. The paladins hadbeen acting strange, and he couldn’t figure it out. They’d made it very clear that they didn’t need him, or even want him. They kept acting like nothing had happened, and it stung a little. Was he supposed to play along? Act like they _hadn’t_ kicked him off the team without a backwards glance? It just didn’t make sense.

Slowly he lifted himself out of the bath, tentatively stepping towards the pile of stuff Keith had abandoned.

Before he could examine the stuff, however, he came face-to-face with his own startled reflection. He hadn’t... he hadn’t seen himself for a while. His face was thin; gaunt even. His hair was long and dull, and his skin was cracked and dry. There was a darkness to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It vaguely reminded him of Shiro, and he shivered.

He ran a hand over a scar that crossed his chest, wincing at the phantom pain that followed. His body was covered in them, and he couldn’t help the heavy despair that settled on his thin frame. They’d left his face alone for the most part, and he felt a bitter gratitude. At least he could fool people into thinking he wasn’t broken and destroyed.

Ripping his gaze away from the mirror, he glanced down at the stuff Keith had dropped. A light flutter filled his chest as he looked over the mess. Keith had over-prepared, as was typical. At least 4 different outfits bunched on the ground, surrounded by bottles he recognized as his old skincare supply. A few other things were mixed in, and he wondered if Keith had asked Allura and Coran for them. The thought made him smile, and he ran a hand over the clothes. It had been a while since he’d actually worn substantial clothing.

He picked up a pair of boxer briefs, chuckling darkly as he slipped them on. Underwear was a luxury he hadn’t even realized he missed.

Throwing on some other clothes haphazardly, he was about to leave the bathroom when his gaze settled on something achingly familiar.

His old jacket.

Slowly he lifted it up, rubbing the familiar material between his fingers. Quiznak, he hadn’t even realized he’d missed it.

Trying to block out the uninvited vision of Kord wearing it, he slipped it onto his thin frame. It didn’t fit him as well anymore, and he was practically drowning in the excess material. A light frown pulled at his lips, and he brought the jacket up to meet his nose. It smelled weird. Like... someone else had been wearing it. Not Kord; he knew that much. He recognized this smell, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Shrugging, he pushed it out of his mind. He had more important things to worry about. Like why the paladins were being so nice to him.

He stepped into the hallway, breathing the achingly familiar smell of the castle. He wanted answers, and he would get them if it was the last thing he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another update! Thanks, vacations!
> 
> I think next chapter will be Keith’s meltdown (which I’ve already mostly written?) so don’t be surprised if it’s out pretty quick. Once again thanks for reading!!! Your comments make my life, and I’ll respond if you make me blush and squeal hard enough haha. 
> 
> Also, I’ve had a few people wonder about the title of this fic. Convalescence actually means “healing”, so I thought it was kinda perfect :) LANCE WILL HEAL LEMME HEAR AN AMEN


	8. Chapter 8

Keith was screwed. 

Officially, absolutely screwed; practically already six feet under.

He paced back and forth in his room relentlessly. All he’d wanted to do was help! He HAD kept his eyes closed the whole time, and it was quiznaking hard. Yeah, it was kinda tempting to take a peek, but he wasn’t a creep, ok!? Besides, that wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was trying to get someone undressed and into a bath without touching anything or opening his eyes. Also, Lance was a lot heavier than he’d been in the prison. Not that he was complaining! It was a good thing. But that, mixed with the vomit that had covered everything, made it rather uncomfortable and a downright failed attempt to comfort Lance. 

He sighed, sinking onto his bed. He hadn’t spent time in his own room for months, and it felt cold and unfamiliar. He wondered what Lance was thinking. Oh god, he probably hated him. He probably thought that he was a pervert. Was he a pervert?? He was a pervert. Shit. Lance was already dealing with so much, and Keith just had to go and make it worse. 

Honestly, he hadn’t really considered what would happen when Lance got back. He’d missed him. He’d accepted that strange realization; accepted that he had... feelings, of some sort, for the blue paladin. It had literally taken losing Lance to knock that into his head, and he was still trying to come to grips with it.

The problem wasn’t that Lance was a guy, ok? Keith had accepted his sexuality in eighth grade, years before anyone else he knew. They’d been playing some stupid game in gym class, ultimate frisbee maybe. The coach had shouted that they’d be in two teams, shirts and skins. At first he hadn’t realized what that meant.

Ha.

Needless to say, being surrounded by sweaty, shirtless guys made it really, really hard to concentrate. His coach had yelled at him to get his head in the game, but how could he when he couldn’t stop imagining his head in very, very different places?

Yeah, that had been the official realization of his sexuality. Keith had always been a pretty blunt person, so he didn’t waste time grappling back and forth about how he felt. He realized it, accepted it, and moved on with his life. So he liked guys. Fine. That hadn’t ever been a problem. But now, Keith couldn’t help but feel that it had morphed into a really big one. A really, _really_ big problem that was right across the hallway, probably pissed off beyond belief.

Yeah, it was a problem. One part of the issue was that it was _Lance_. Lance, the stupid teasing flirt who’d hit up girls endlessly. Lance, with his stupid laugh and his endless supply of witty comments and dumb (dumb) jokes. Nobody in their right mind would even think about him in that way. He wasn’t sincere, he wouldn’t be loyal, he couldn’t take anything seriously, and he was so, so clueless. So why was Keith still feeling this way?

He logically knew that it was a bad idea. Lance was bad news. Lance was probably (definitely) straight. But no matter how much Keith tried to reason through it, he just couldn’t force his stupid heart to slow down and listen to logic. It liked Lance. And _he_ liked Lance. And Lance definitely didn’t like him.

The second half of the issue was probably the more pressing of the two.

Lance was hurt.

Keith couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to be there for him, and felt butterflies at even the thought of Lance asking him for help, but it would be so wrong of him to push himself into Lance’s life. Lance was vulnerable, and Keith didn’t want to force feelings onto him. He didn’t want to misread anything. Lance hugging him and holding his hand (if only) didn’t mean the same thing anymore. It meant that he needed help, and Keith couldn’t properly help him if he was trying to push past a stupid gay crush.

Regardless of how he felt, there were more important things to focus on. Lance had responded better to him than he had to the others, and Keith was not about to let that change.

Ok, that sounded kind of bad. But he honestly just wanted to help! He’d make it his goddamn goal. From now on, he’d do anything he could to help Lance feel comfortable in the castle again.

Besides, he still had a promise to keep. Lance would see Earth again, and Keith would be there to watch that brilliant smile light up his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little short? Sorry :/   
> Thanks for reading!!!


	9. Chapter 9

Lance marched down to the common room, full of a confidence he hoped look more real than it felt. His body ached from the harsh pace set, but he pushed the pain to the back of his mind. He’d been through worse. 

The door to the common room slid open in front of him, and he didn’t hesitate to storm into the room.

Pidge and Shiro were the only occupants of the room, and they looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I w-want answers.” His voice came out wobbly and hoarse, and he winced. What he wouldn’t give for his old voice back.

Shiro blinked in surprise, sitting a little straighter in his seat.

“Of course, Lance. We’ll answer any questions you have.” He motioned for Lance to take a seat, but he stood firmly in place.

“I want everyone here,” he demanded, daring Shiro to refuse. His hands shook, and he clenched them into tight fists.

“Oh, uh, of course!” Shiro stammered, looking completely out of his element. “I’ll ask them to meet us in the control room. Is that alright?”

Lance narrowed his eyes. Again with the nice-guy act.

“I d-don’t care. I just want to t-talk.”

Shiro nodded fervently, already moving towards the door.

“Great! I’m glad you’re willing to talk to us. Let me get the others.”

He practically ran out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the large hallways.

Lance turned to Pidge, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“What?” he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“I just don’t know what to make of this. Usually I know exactly what’s going on, but you’ve stumped me.”

A scowl twisted on his face. “I d-don’t believe you. You know exactly what this is; w-what you’ve done.” His voice broke, and he turned away from Pidge’s shocked expression hurriedly. His body ached to move; to run away. After a long silence, he gave in, escaping the tense environment. He let his feet lead him, trying not to reminisce as he traveled through the castle.

Before he even knew where he was going, he found himself at the observation deck. Stars twinkled gently in the night sky, and he pressed a hand against the cold glass. He never thought he’d see the stars again.

He let out a shuddering breath, willing the tears away. His past with Lotor was behind him. He was with the paladins of Voltron, and they hadn’t hurt him yet. Physically, anyways.

The sound of the door opening startled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to the entrance in surprise. Keith stood in the space, a dark shadow against the bright lights of the hallway.

“Shiro said you want to talk to us,” he said. His voice was gentle, and smooth. If Lance didn’t know better, he would have thought Keith was being kind to him.

He nodded, setting his mouth into a hard line. “Yeah.”

He took brisk steps towards the exit, but Keith didn’t move as he approached. Soon they were standing chest-to-chest, nose-to-nose.

“Y-You’re in the w-way,” he stammered, trying desperately not to flinch away from the close proximity. Keith lifted a corner of his lips.

“I know.”

Lance let out a huff. “W-Well maybe you should m-move.”

Keith took a step closer, and Lance swallowed heavily. What was happening?

“I’m never moving away from your side again.”

Lance stared at him with wide eyes.

“W-What?” he croaked.

“You heard me,” Keith said, crossing his arms. “Every time I let you out of my sight, something bad happens. I’m not letting that happen ever again.”

Lance chucked weakly.

“I think you’re d-delusional. You’re... You’re in mourning. You’re d-desperate.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Keith or himself.

Keith only looked confused. “What am in mourning for? You’re not dead.”

Lance blinked.

“Um... your boyfriend? The blue Paladin?”

Keith’s eyes widened, and a light blush spread across his cheeks. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking suspiciously.

Lance gaped at him. “W-What do you mean, what d-do I mean? You— You don’t need me! You guys found the b-blue Paladin, I saw! I just— he died, right? Isn’t that why you took me b-back?”

Keith looked confused, and almost angry.

“Lance, what are you talking about? You’re the blue Paladin. We spent months trying to find you. We couldn’t rest, the team was a mess. We rescued you because we care about you, not because we needed you for Voltron. Not that we don’t need you for Voltron, uh,” he added hurriedly, “but that’s not the biggest reason.”

Lance stared at him in shock. What... what? He talked to them. They made it very clear what his position was on the team. What Keith was saying just didn’t add up.

“I don’t... I... What?” he croaked.

“Lance, I don’t know what happened to you in that prison. I don’t know how you feel or what you’re going though, but I do know one thing for sure: I care about you.”

Lance stumbled backwards in shock, losing his balance. Keith reached out to catch him, but he flinched away from the touch.

“Please d-don’t lie t-to me,” he whimpered, wrapping his arms around himself. “I can’t— I can’t t-take any more.”

“I would never lie to you, Lance.”

“You hurt me,” Lance whispered, eyes watering. “You hurt me s-so _bad_ , Keith, and I d-don’t understand w-why you’re d-doing this.” Keith’s eyes were filled with pain.

“When?” he asked softly. “What did I do?”

“You— You can’t keep p-pretending like you d-don’t know,” Lance replied, laughing harshly. “I can’t— I can’t d-deal with this, Keith, I j-just don’t understand. Let’s just go t-talk to the team, they’re probably w-waiting for us.”

He shoved past Keiths frozen form, angrily swiping at wayward tears. He heard tentative footsteps behind him, and he pushed forward determinedly. He had no idea what Keith was playing at, but he was done with being confused.


	10. Chapter 10

Keith perched on the edge of his seat, eyeing Lance warily. The blue paladin was tense, glancing at them almost suspiciously. It made Keith squirm. Something was wrong. 

“I need to t-talk to you all,” Lance started. Keith’s gaze flitted to Lance’s shaking hands before returning to his solemn face.

“I don’t understand why you’re all acting like this,” he blurted. Keith frowned. Acting like what?

Shiro voiced his thoughts. “What do you mean, Lance?”

Lance scowled. “You’ve all been acting nice to me,” he spat. Keith raised an eyebrow.

“How did you expect us to act?” he asked.

Lance’s scowl deepened. “Like how you feel. You d-don’t need to pretend. I don’t even know wh-why you’re doing it. But I already know that you guys h-hate me, you’ve made it perfectly clear.”

The team exchanged glances of shocked confusion. They’d made it clear? How? When?

“Lance,” Shiro started hesitantly. “None of us know what you’re talking about. We absolutely do not hate you; we care about you. We spent months searching for you, and we only want you to get better.”

Lance’s face twisted, and Keith tensed further at the telltale glimmer of tears.

“I don’t— You all abandoned m-me! You r-replaced me, I saw it! With K-Kord, and— and the stupid tr-transmission. Why d-don’t you hate me? Wh-Why are you acting l-like this? I don’t understand.” He broke into heaving sobs, crumpling to the ground. Keith could only stare in shock. The others looked equally concerned, but none of them were quite sure what to do. Slowly, Keith found himself walking to Lance’s shaking form.

“Lance...” he trailed off, his throat choking up. Gingerly, he rested a hand on the blue paladin’s shoulder. He flinched slightly, but made no move to shake him off. Swallowing heavily, he continued.

“Lance, we want to help you understand. Let me tell you our side of the story.” Blue eyes peeked at him from underneath long lashes, red and swollen with tears. They looked so tired. Dead, and done with existing.

Hesitantly, Lance nodded.

So Keith told him. He told him about how they’d tried to track the ship. How they’d devised new strategies that were more offensive, just to get their hands on more data. He told him how Allura took over Blue, and she reassured him persistently that Blue was his, and she only piloted because she had to. Keith told him about how devastated they’d been at the castle, and how their bond had weakened. (He did _not_ tell him about how he slept in Lance’s room, or about how he wore his jacket most days.) He told him how impossible it’d been to form Voltron and how amazing Allura was when she finally pulled it off. Lance seemed proud that Blue had played such a big role.

Allura chimed in then, talking about her control of quintessence that allowed her to find his location. He perked up at that, nodding along with her narration. She explained how she’d been forced undercover as a Galran soldier, and tearfully described how devastated she’d been when she found him.

Keith took over for her when her tears got to be too much, explaining the difficult planning process they’d undergone. And then... then he told Lance about Lotor. How he’d found him and fought him off, wrenching Lance out of his control. Lance seemed to shrink into himself, the very mention of the Galran prince visibly wounding him. Keith placed a calming arm around his shoulder, and he slowly leaned into the touch.

“I think I understand,” he whispered quietly. “I still— I’m still not sure, but I trust you. I trust you, Keith.” Keith smiled lightly, tilting his head to rest against Lance’s.

“We missed you so much,” he whispered. The other paladins vehemently agreed, huddling around the two in one giant sobbing lump.

Things weren’t ok. They probably never would be, but that was fine. Keith knew for a fact that he’d be able to work through it. Him and Lance. He’d be there to support him, whether as a friend or a teammate or maybe more. He’d be there.

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... huh. This chapter kinda took a turn I wasn’t expecting. I guess this is the end? Ill probably add an epilogue for you guys tho, don’t worry :) thanks again for reading, and for all your support!! Lmk what you thought, I love feedback!!


	11. Chapter 11

**2 Years Later**

 

Lance sprinted around the corner, ignoring the sounds of fighting behind him. The Galra ship was shaking, explosions sounding from outside.

It didn’t matter. He needed to do this.

He swung around another corner, and— There. That was it. The painfully familiar door beckoned to him, and he ran toward it without a second thought. Lotor was in there. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He pulled his bayard out as he ran, clenching it with white knuckles.

He barreled through the door without a second thought, and... this was it. This had been his prison.

The familiar purple bed mocked him, and a sick feeling crawled up his spine.

“Lancey-Lance, what a pleasant surprise!”

Lance bristled, turning to find Lotor standing to his left. Fear crawled up his throat, but he pushed it down stubbornly.

“I always knew you’d be back. You love it here, don’t you?”

Lance shook his head, his words failing him.

“Don’t worry, Lancey. I’ll take care of you.” Lotor moved across the short distance, and his hand came up to cradle Lance’s cheek. His skin crawled.

“No,” he whispered, and he moved to pull his bayard up to Lotor’s chest, but— he had nothing. His hands were empty, and he just ended up pushing against Lotor’s chest weakly.

“Don’t fight it anymore. You know you want this.”

Lance trembled, tears leaking down his face. Lotor didn’t pay him any mind, he never did, and then he was pushing Lance onto the bed. He could _feel_ it under him, the pillows and blankets and somehow his armor was gone and Lotor was going to do it again, he was going to rape him, he was going to hurt him and he couldn’t do anything about it, he was so helpless, and the bed was _there_ , he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t—

 

“Lance. Lance, baby, wake up.”

He shot out of bed with a strangled gasp, scrambling across the room until he was huddled against the far wall.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I c-can’t do it, I can’t—“

“Hey. Look at me.” Keith moved out of the bed until he was directly across from him, holding his gaze determinedly. He dutifully kept his hands to himself, though it was obvious how much he wanted to reach out.

“I’m sorry, Keith, I’m so sorry,” Lance sobbed, rocking back a little.

“It’s ok, it’s fine. We’ve been through this before, we can do it again.” Lance nodded miserably, huddling into himself.

“Do you feel well enough to try the bed again? Or should we stick to the floor tonight?”

Lance really, really wanted to sleep in the bed with Keith. He loved snuggling up to him and cuddling in the blankets and falling asleep together, but... just the thought of touching it made his skin crawl. He couldn’t do it. Not tonight.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, shaking his head miserably. “I thought I was over this.”

“Hey, it’s ok. We spent months on the floor, remember? One more night won’t hurt anything.” Lance smiled weakly.

Keith turned back to the bed, taking a single light blanket and draping it on the floor. He took a pillow for himself, and then laid on the blanket with a grunt. Lance slowly crawled over to him, laying close but not touching. Lance traced the outline of Keith’s profile with his eyes, admiring his sharp jaw and delicate features.

“Tell me one thing,” Keith said, breaking the comfortable silence.

This was a tradition of theirs, in a way. At the beginning of their relationship, Keith had been frustrated by his own lack of understanding and inability to help. Lance wouldn’t tell him what happened in the prison, or what his nightmares were about. It was too overwhelming. Keith had been treading on thin ice, never knowing if one of his actions or words would send Lance into a panic attack.

Finally, they found a system. If Lance ever had a nightmare, he’d tell Keith one thing about it that he hadn’t told him before. Slowly, it helped Keith piece together the puzzle, and Lance avoided getting overwhelmed with memories. It helped too, sometimes. It was good to vent, even if it was only a little bit.

Lance took a shaky breath.

“He called me Lancey-Lance,” he breathed, his stomach twisting uneasily. Keith hummed in acknowledgement, shifting a little on the hard ground.

“Sick bastard,” he mumbled. It was quiet for a moment, then, “Let me know if you feel better and want to cuddle or something.”

Lance nodded, smiling, and watched Keith’s eyelids slowly flutter shut. He was so, so lucky. Keith was incredibly patient with him, and he was so kind and beautiful.

Lance shifted a little closer, letting his fingers drift over Keith’s curled fist. Keith had done a lot for him. When he thought back to those first days... it made him sick, honestly. He’d been really, really messed up.

But he was getting better now. He could sleep on the bed most nights, and he’d even mostly banished his stutter. It only came back when he was extra emotional or overwhelmed. They’d even contacted his family, and Lance had learned his Mamá was still alive. Blessedly, thankfully alive. His father was far from hating him, and his siblings were ecstatic when they learned where he was. Like, _hello_. He was flying a super cool blue lion in space, blowing up bad guys and saving the universe. The kids were bound to love him, really.

Things were good. There was still a clenching worry in his gut that everything was bound to go wrong, but he pushed it away stubbornly. He had an amazing boyfriend, and an amazing team. He was safe, and loved, and he’d never wanted anything more.

Slowly, he scooted a little closer to Keith until his head was tucked under the red paladin’s chin. Keith grunted in his sleep but didn’t wake up, and Lance relaxed against him.

The castle motors hummed, and he sighed happily. He still needed to work on things. He still had nightmares and slept on the floor and cried for no reason sometimes. But he was healing.

And as long as he kept working and trying to be the best he could be, he would be better someday.

Someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that was the end!! Thanks so much for reading, and for sticking with it. I’d love to know what you think, comments make my world go round.   
> If you want to yell at me on tumblr my username is haylches :)  
> Feel free to check out my other fics, too! I have an a/b/o fic I’m writing that’s gotten a lot of support so far.   
> Anyways, thanks again!!


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